


The Thread That Binds

by ChibiTabatha



Series: Chibi's 2019 Whumptober [11]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Blood and Injury, Graphic Description, M/M, Panic, Stitches, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 06:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiTabatha/pseuds/ChibiTabatha
Summary: Íþróttaálfurinn tends to find him like this, huddled in his balloon, bleeding from some injury or another. He always patches Glanni up before the man disappears back into the night.Something about this time seems different.





	The Thread That Binds

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober Day 10 prompt: Stitches

He hated when Glanni wound up waiting for him in the basket of his balloon. Shiny red spots reflecting the moonlight, washing out the skin on the already pale criminal.  
  
"Hey," the tall man would smile sweetly, a stark contrast to the mess of black and red slumped against wicker.  
  
He hated that he was so predictable, "Let me see."  
  
A soft sound, maybe a laugh, perhaps a sigh, could have even been a sound made in annoyance. Whatever it was meant to be was never questioned. Ignored while fishing his first aid supplies out from under the small cot in the basket.  
  
"If you always leave that in the same place, I will steal it." An empty threat, one that brings a glint to dull gray eyes.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind. Let's see," he motioned to the red spot blooming under his injured arm.  
  
Slowly leather is peeled away from the wound. A clean slice down his forearm, a flash of white catching the moonlight.  
  
Íþróttaálfurinn's stomach turned, how could people do this to one another? Cut down to the bone, carve out the life, saw out organs. All for what? A silent deal stating the importance of some paper and metal.  
  
The hero's hands were steady, unlike his mind. Cleaning the wound, needle flashing as red and pinks slowly knit together, hiding the flash of white underneath.  
  
White skin, an angry red line held together by thin black thread, a relieved look buried under a wicked smile. "Impeccable as always."  
  
"Let me wrap it. Then you can be off," he sighed through his nose as he reached for the gauze.  
  
When he was fully patched up, Glanni squeezed his arm before slipping over the side of the basket and into the night.

* * *

Glanni was sitting in his basket, but there was no red reflecting the low light of the stars.  
  
"Glæpur?"  
  
The sound of his own name stilled his hand on his arm. "Hey," the unusually soft greeting felt unfamiliar.  
  
Íþróttaálfurinn paused, taking in the uninjured man. "Why are you here?" rolled from the tip of his tongue.  
  
Long fingers went back to their restless dance against the injured arm. "I don't really know."  
  
The tips of the incessant fingers slowly darkened, tearing through the stitches to the tender wound underneath. "Stop that."  
  
The fingers stopped a moment, brushing over the shreds of the stitches. Íþróttaálfurinn wanted to know what brought Glanni to him, why he was picking at his still tender flesh. "Glanni, why are you here?"  
  
The criminal froze up a moment, a look of shock contorting his features a moment. He hissed out, "Excuse me?"  
  
"I already ask-"  
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
Íþróttaálfurinn swallowed, he and Glanni were not friends, there was no reason for him to call him by his first name. "I used your name. You are clearly here for a reason."  
  
Glanni took that bit of information and rolled it around like his head between his shoulders. "Alright Íþrótta, I'm here because I am hiding from the man who did this to me," he motioned to the freshly oozing wound.  
  
"You said you didn't know why you were here though," the hero frowned.  
  
"Because I don't. I could have hid anywhere. But here I am," the criminal held out his arms to his sides, a foreign tinge to his voice.  
  
The hero looked over the man once more, saw the panic slowly bubbling in silver pools reflecting the low light. "You know I won't hurt you."  
  
Fingers returned to ripping at the thread on his arm, "I think that's what scares me the most."

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure what kind of stitches I wanted to do at first, but I really like how this ended up turning out in the end.
> 
> I've been real mean to Glanni this month. And we're like a 3rd of the way through! :D
> 
> Tell me how awful I am below or on [tumblr](https://chibitabathasloves.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
